


Closet Wetting

by boltshok



Series: Bumblebee and G Get Some [2]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Closet Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Omorashi, Oral Sex, PWP, Self-Insert, Watersports, Wetting, Xeno, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22181380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltshok/pseuds/boltshok
Summary: Where better than to have a planned wetting than a janitorial closet?
Relationships: Bumblebee/G, Bumblebee/Human OC
Series: Bumblebee and G Get Some [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601872
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Closet Wetting

**Author's Note:**

> Size difference??? In my house????
> 
> Not on my watch

“Ahh... G...”

“Shh, they’ll hear you.”

“They’ll see it before anything else,” he gasps, shifting around in a very controlled pee dance. “Find a closet you like?”

“Yeah, this one’s got a mop. Perfect.”

I grab his hand and pull him into the closet, closing the door after us. With his doorwings and the already existing menagerie of stuff inside, it’s a tight fit, but pressed up against his chest I can hear the whisper-soft moans creeping out of his vocaliser. 

“G,” he whines, and I hear a soft, cut-off hiss. He’s losing control.

“Mmm, yes,” I moan, trying to keep my voice low. 

I slide my hand up his thigh and settle it over his modesty plating, squeezing enough he’ll know I’m grabbing him. He pants softly and I can feel another jet of waste fluid hit the interior of his armor. One jet becomes two, then three, then short bursts one after another before he’s full on wetting, losing control straight into his armor. His chest heaves with the relief, and he puts one hand on my back as he bends over me, moaning and gasping softly into my hair. 

Nearly finished, his modesty plating unexpectedly springs open and he finishes with the head of his spike against my inner thigh, pulsing the last amount of waste fluid softly against my leg. That only serves to push my arousal higher, and I roll my hips to feel him grind against my leg.

“Bee, can I, uh, can I suck you off?”

He looks down at me, the light of his optics the only illumination in the closet. It’s hard to tell his expression by the many thoughts jittering through the bond, so I ask again.

“Can I give you head?”

His optics flutter for a moment before he lifts the hand off my back and his doorwings spread. “Yes, frag, yes,” he whimpers as I drop to my knees in front of him. 

Never before had I felt this kind of urge to suck a spike. I normally disliked giving head, just because it felt funny doing it and the few times I had done it were on human men. Eew.

Now on the floor, I take his spike in hand and pump it once, twice, spreading the growing amount of prefluid around before I tentatively lick it. His ventilation stutters and I do it again, more confidently this time. Just like energon, his spike doesn’t taste at all like I expected, but it isn’t gross like organic anatomy. I let the head breach my lips and he sighs high and soft. I don’t need any other encouragement. 

I can only hope I was enthusiastic when giving it. Having not done it much, I’m sure it wasn’t great, but the way he was leaning back amongst the hanging supplies, one hand gripping onto a bundle of towels and the other tentatively stroking my cheek, my hair, framing my face and egging me on was more than enough to make me continue. Outside, footsteps approach in the hall.

“Oh man, the closet’s leaking again,” one of them sighs, and that’s when I notice they’re right outside the door and the puddle of waste fluid has evaded the mops and has trickled outside too. Bee releases the towels and covers his mouth as his spike begins to throb. Now he’s close?

“Guess we’ll have to call maintenance.”

He looks down at me, and I can read the flush in his eyes and in the bond as the footsteps near us. 

“Eh, just leave it. Less work for us now.” 

After a moment’s pause, they both walk on down the hall. 

Bee is leaning against the supplies heavily now, optics closed and venting hard, and I could tell he was doing everything possible to hold back. His spike pulses once, twice, and then he’s overloading in my mouth, still covering his own to stifle the moans and cries. The first shot nearly fills my mouth, and I try to keep going but have to pull back, and he paints my face with milky transfluid as three more significant pulses of fluid come forth.

I stroke his throbbing, leaking spike as his overload fades, and as his erection begins to soften I slowly stand up to face him. He flushes even more deeply when he catches a glimpse of the transfluid on my face.

“Oh... G...”

I grin up at him as he brushes one of the silvery strands with his thumb, and I turn my head to suck it off. He presses closer to me, doorwings blossoming almost shyly open as he moves in for a kiss. I know he tastes himself on my tongue, and his glossa meets my tongue softly. 

“I want to take you home,” he breathes, pulling back just enough to speak. “And eat you until you overload. Slowly.”

“Let me clean my face,” I murmur in response, and he smiles and pecks my cheek, nuzzling me gently before pulling back and watching me wipe the transfluid from my face.


End file.
